Salt Air
by Coco-Minu
Summary: Because all that glitters isn't fishscale, or gold; or whatever the goddamn phrase is. SasukexIno, ItachixIno, ItachixHinata. AU.
1. everything that glitters ain't fishscale

Summary: _Because all that glitters isn't fishscale, or gold; or whatever the goddamn phrase is._

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Note: I feel like such a bad person right now. In between university open days, breaking up from school very late and various other things I have neglected stuff. Then I came online, read a message from beautifulgeek11 and sat there just thinking how horrible I am sometimes. So I have decided to upload this prologue now, just so everyone knows I have not died or anything. Sorry for my absence! T^T

Warning(s): AU. Bad language. Angst. Slightly crack!pairings at points.

* * *

**Salt Air**

* * *

- _everything that glitters ain't fishscale._ -

* * *

Sasuke is the kind of beautiful that breaks down centuries.

He is the beautiful that was old when the world had just begun, the same way epidemics are gorgeous if you look at them in the exact split second they spread the most ruin; the beautiful that watches ancient civilisations crumble and sees a masterpiece in the skeletal remains. He has the bare bones of something stunning. Ino has never cared for aesthetics but when she first meets Sasuke she knows it will be him she loves.

"You are the most important thing he has ever taken from me."

He says, turning his favourite glass in his hands. Itachi has a crevasse filled with dried blood where he bites his bottom lip every hour on the dot and tan lines from his smart shirts with rolled up sleeves to the elbows. His clothes are always this side of crinkled and he carries a pocketwatch because he says time isn't kept properly nowadays. But this isn't why she knows he is right; she knows he is right because he's the sort of person to care too much, and he is the one that she should have loved instead.

"That's because I'm the only thing he's ever taken from you."

But this is reality; and the one thing Ino has learnt from reality is that there is no such thing as really loving somebody. For all the words Sasuke has ever said, the majority have been lies tucked neatly behind his tongue and spat out like snake venom. After all, words are only words. And even if Itachi's words mean something, there is no better sinner than a young saint.

"Why do you turn everything into something ugly?"

Because, Ino does not tell him, I don't know how to live any other way. Because all that glitters isn't fishscale, or gold; or whatever the goddamn phrase is. Everything may have a smile, but it shows teeth; and if you really mean anything nowadays you'll get eaten alive.

"The same reason you make things beautiful."

For Itachi, making things perfect is his way of coping. He saw her too thin neck and bruised legs hidden in shame and saw something attractive he could turn into love. But like Eve in the eyes of God as she was banished, Ino is a scavenger at best, a downright whore; and she doesn't need to have beauty to be self loathing this time around.

"And when he gets bored, what then?"

Ino pauses. She never does equate things into the big picture. Maybe that's why she's a letdown. The tragedy, she used to say, was not that she disappointed people; it was that she ran out of ways to do so.

"I don't know."

Maybe it's that she knows he will wait for her, bated breath against the windows he wants to pretend she can't see him through as she walks back home at 4am – _the time when you were mine he would say indulgently_ – or that she's waiting for the time when he turns his back on her; but she knows that even when she has forsaken him and Sasuke leaves her behind, she can always go back to his brother. She doesn't know what's worse, that she knows he'll get bored or that she accepts such an idea as being alright.

"You're a fool."

She knows what he says is true, but he is not one to speak. They're both fools for love, and even when she comes back tired of living he'll love her. It is this simple way of acceptance that drew her too him once, but never as anything more than friends. That was where they differed. He never quite could see her as a friend after he'd known what it was like to have more from her.

"But you won't stop me."

Itachi never has enough rhythm to write poetry, enough coldness to turn her away or enough hate to understand that loving her meant never letting her leave. But now, his eyes are a black pool of endless ink in the moonlight; and the glass in his hand has smashed. Crimson droplets stain her white feet and his floor, and he drags his spindly fingers across her cheek softly; a bloody caste mark, turning the traitor away from Eden. She shivers and pulls away from his frozen touch. Things have changed.

And dark is his path on the wings of the storm.

* * *

Brownie points to whoever actually manages to get any of the references in this.

Three Top Tracks #1:

**Who's Next?** – Curry & Coco

**The Sea Is A Good Place To Think Of The Future** – Los Campesinos!

**While You Wait For The Others** – Grizzly Bear

Reviews are loved and appreciated. ~ :)


	2. christina's world

Summary: _Because all that glitters isn't fishscale, or gold; or whatever the goddamn phrase is._

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Note: I hate being alone in the house. I turn everything up to top volume and leave on all the lights and it still feels empty. ~ :(

Warning(s): AU. Bad language. Angst. Slightly crack!pairings at points. Solvent abuse.

* * *

**Salt Air**

* * *

_- __christina's world_ –

* * *

Ino calls it red trade.

The human epidemic, our last embrace. And thus, Sasuke is born. Born into a world he is different from. For he is beautiful whilst the world is ugly, or perhaps the other way around; she's never been able to decide. In this reality he stands above them all, watching the population tear itself apart and instead of stopping the spill of cheap blood on concrete he takes his suicidal hands and injects.

It becomes red trade when he wraps himself into his own arms until the screams fade away and he can no longer see himself sitting alone, when she reaches for the needles instead because neither of them can breathe right; just so he doesn't die. God forbid, he should sit up and cry for help or for love or anything that'd make him feel fine. That isn't alright. They're not alright. And in his sing song voice, the kids are all fucked up. What a grand view.

So Ino comes to understand the world; and in doing so she is alone. Then Sasuke aches back to the dark of blackened veins, the absolute blank and the closest thing to a closed off subconscious mind he can ever have; and he hides it with rolled down designer suit sleeves. Then he'll twist a youthful smile after the slaughter and sleep peacefully through the night.

He has changed. She has changed, and he has only forgotten. He has let her drown in the sheets of his bed. This, he had never said, was love. She'd always just wanted it to be. This is only because he wanted to win. This doesn't hurt, not like it should, and it never did. Thus, they both begin to live.

And Ino begins to leave.

* * *

Itachi will breathe here. He will feast here. He will die here.

And when Ino comes back, she comes back without the pride she always possessed; and this time, she doesn't come back to him. Or for him. Or anything. So maybe one day, he will understand that she does not care, and she does not comprehend what he's been trying to tell her for so long. _Te quiero, pero no de la misma manera_. This time, he is the one who does not understand. He can still hear the echo of her voice against his back.

"You were a long time coming."

It's beautiful, like a butterfly trapped within the safety of his hands. Even if he says it over and over, she already knows. It's like fear of the dark in that ever since he was young he can't help but want to embrace it. This love is in half-asleep details, and he needs it. It's like they have yet to meet, all the things he can still learn about her. All the things he wants to know. He doesn't remember how not to want this.

"I'm not back, Itachi."

He knows this; he knows – _against all odds darling_ – she doesn't want to be back. So he sits on his open palms, hides his bitten nails this way because he doesn't want her to know he cares, he pretends like he can be colder than her. His clothes smell of textbooks in Spanish, ink, notes to his secretary telling her that he didn't want to take any calls today. Or for the next week. Or six months until now.

"I knew you wouldn't be, not for me."

When Sasuke was young, he fell in love with daybreak. Itachi remembers buying him artbooks, Munch's fat waxen moons being far away and cold to try and stop him from staying up and exhausting himself to see something beautiful. When he was young, Sasuke was the kind of boy who has too much imagination, a boy with too much belief to keep his feet on the ground. And Ino, in a different way, pacifies him similarly in his adulthood; although he had known it wouldn't last.

"I'm just asking you to keep a closer watch on him."

Mama told her not to wait on pretentious lines from movies, and that love is never beautiful like you want it to be. Then she'd dropped dead when her little girl was five. Papa didn't bother to preach. From this, Itachi knows that Ino won't tell him anything he actually needs to know. But he loves his brother, he loves her; and in this when she tells him to protect the other there is no choice. She's always beneath the surface.

"Because you don't want to anymore?"

She's come to steal his pleasure, the way a poor man steals a piece of bread because he's tired of breathing. Sustain yourself, feast on my life. Give me your hands and let me press my lips against the burns. The moment he tries to touch her she steps away silently.

"Because I understand how you must feel when I look at him."

A sharp intake of breathe and he feels laboured just pulling away from her. She loves his brother, who can blame her; and it can't be him. Not now. Ino doesn't care for beauty but she loves Sasuke, and yet anything between them is as fragile as the wings of a moth. Itachi cares for beauty and so he cares for them both; and yet he can never have both of them. They are not his to keep on the odd occasions they return to him.

"I promised you oceans, what can he give you?"

He bites cruelly, hoping she'll flinch. She doesn't give him the pleasure. His voice is harsh and unforgiving and she's never seen him like this before. When he was young he knew which way Babylon was, no matter how many times he spun around. But she's taken all his life, and now he just sounds hollow when he's angry. She reaches out her hand as if to forgive and then lets it drop by her side limply. She does not miss him. Not like this.

"A boat to cross the ocean you never delivered."

She says, and for the first time in a long time she scares him. Saturdays had happened around her blessed soles; uncovered feet sticking out from under her pile of blankets she slept in, and the sun would soak down on her golden head. Things were good then. But she opted out for something which was vile and cheap. Something that meant nothing. And the thought that this is the end is terrifying.

"Where will you go?"

He manages to ask, cutting off anything else he wanted to say. Itachi is not emotional. He has always disconnected himself from the big picture, kept his distance. His only function is to make things look good, not to ensure they actually are perfect. Now more than ever he wishes it was the other way around. You could look terrible, but that didn't mean either of you loved each other any less.

"Somewhere where the grass is greener. Like I have a plan."

She tells him, rolling up her sleeves to lift the battered old suitcases as if she's forgotten why she wore a shirt to begin with. It's only for half a minute that she doesn't recall she kept them down for a reason, but it's already half a minute too late. Itachi is probably the most observant person she knows, and before she knows it her arm has been grabbed like it's been forever since he held her.

"Injecting?"

He is cold this time. Ino struggles and he lets go. He can tell that she is furious with herself for letting him see. For Ino, there are no mistakes, no fuck ups – _except Sasuke_ – and he doesn't understand this in the slightest. She wouldn't. Unless it was for him. And as she slams the door on her way out he slumps against the wall. It's been a long time since he last smoked, and sometimes nicotine patches just don't cut it. He lines up the Black Devils and smokes three of them before he's realised what he's doing.

And his mind repeats that the sea is a good place to think about the future.

* * *

Sasuke forgot what he called it along the way.

Americanisation, the stigma of the modern world. Wrap yourself in patriotism and pretend to give a shit about humanity. Like the moon of the sea, darling dearest; he finds this world so ugly. And ugly is the new beautiful.

"Where is she, Itachi?"

He hums down the phone. Older brother, beloved bastard. He doesn't care for Ino in the slightest, and he won't claim to either. She is like everything else. The only thing he's interested in her for is the surface. And by now he honestly believes she should be at Itachi's house, with drastic afterthoughts and no breath to call her own.

"Ah, so you've realised she's missing?"

Like a piece of furniture, Sasuke thinks dully, she's only there for decoration. Of course she'd be missing, what else? Itachi would know though, that's where she began; and that will be where she ends. He can't remember exactly why he had her here to begin with, except that she had not been his and it made him want her. Like all possessions, she had to be taken from his brother. That gave her some merit.

"She's supposed to be going to the gala with me this afternoon."

He says almost conversationally but his mind is on edge. He rubs his red rimmed eyes with the back of one hand and eats a slice of peeled apple. It's been three days and this is how he has coped, expecting her to be back by now.

"Brother dear, she's left you."

Itachi says sweetly, and slams down the phone. It takes a moment to process this, and another moment to realise how much this enrages him. Sure, he can get any other girl; whichever one he wants. But she was his brothers, and there isn't another girl he can take from Itachi. Nobody has ever left him before, either. Not in this way at least, the majority have had interesting and more permanent exits.

And so Sasuke comes to realise he understands the world much less then he thought he did. He smiles to himself at the new challenge, and picks up the soft cloth packet his needles are neatly hidden inside. The best part of his day is when he numbs his mind. There is no such thing as love, and this doesn't hurt like it should. She is beautiful but she doesn't mean a thing to him. Thus, Ino has left.

And Sasuke begins to remember.

* * *

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Itachi tries not to be jealous.

And Sasuke can run wild, and he cannot; and Sasuke can forget to love, and he cannot. But he tries to forget this, not to be jealous of the things he cannot do; and the things he cannot have. He guesses in the end it's because he isn't able to bite the bullet.

"Ino."

Of course it's her. She looks around, and catches his eye for a few brief seconds before turning away again. She always knew how to get to him. Before her, everything was black and white. Sasuke was the most important thing. She brought him to life. She was always so confident, and what can he do for her? Love her. But it makes her weaker.

"Afternoon, Itachi."

One day, he had said they would be invincible. One day they'd have each other and that was all he needed, and all the bad things in the world would be gone. But her cropped fur coat is covering her punctured arms and he's not good enough. Things have changed this year. He is no God. And even if he was, he couldn't fix this.

"Please turn around."

She keeps her back to him, swaying slowly in her heels. The obscure shadows of reality have always been something he has been keen to avoid. He'd always thought that when it hit him, at least they'd be together in the blank blackness about to smother them. But he's now scared. He doesn't like this world. He is pushing her away like she wants and he is losing his grip in doing so. And she is only making him more unsure.

"Sasuke is here. He'll come over."

She tells him, speech slightly slurred. He thought evil men had no songs, once. But he guesses now they never needed one. The madness has spread like wildfire, insanity burning Sasuke's lungs and now it's beginning to infect her. Somewhere, Itachi is certain that God is looking at his watch, wondering how long this will take.

"And so what if he does, this is a private event. He won't make a scene."

Ino's eyes seem to flicker with some sort of redemption as she glances over her shoulder at him. Never fulfill anyone's expectations, she had always said. And that was when she was sober, and on a good day. She'd always been told she wouldn't amount to fuck all, and they were probably right. But for now, that didn't matter. And making a scene was the reason she was put on this world right now. Her speeches were known to be legendary.

"I hope he feels this like a kick in the head."

She grabs the microphone being offered to her. Sasuke had been looking forward to this gala so much, Itachi muses. But this is her last hope. Humiliation always did work best for Sasuke, because he rarely felt it.

"Ino, I don't think you should do this."

He tells her, sitting down on the floor behind the screen she is standing in front of. One off performance from Ino Yamanaka, occasional commercial artist, coming up in five minutes. He thinks of it as social suicide for Sasuke through her embarrassing him, and to her, this is just another way to let somebody down. He'd never said he loved her, and that was all the ammunition she needed.

"Sasuke, dearest, I think we need to have a little chat."

Ino begins. The room is beginning to go quite. Last year he would have shook her shoulders until she listened, told her that this wasn't ok. But things are different now, and Ino is probably a little bit drunk; and maybe he finds this alright. Because she's still Ino. Everyone loves a crowd pleaser.

"Ino, what are you doing?"

Sasuke's deep, calm voice suddenly washes over the silence. Ino has never followed the rules, except for the ones which his brother has lain down. Itachi can remember it like it has been in stone, like it had been carved into her heart. Thinking those deep, meaningful thoughts she always had, she'd left them there. The thoughts that always scared him, and Sasuke just ignored. The seaside tangent had not been an exception.

"Informing everyone of our relationship, darling. It's over. I've left you, because well, because you're a selfish prick. No really. I hate you. You know that?"

It's about this time that Itachi thinks he should prevent Ino from embarrassing herself as well as Sasuke. From behind the screen he can see her fumbling with her sleeves, and it is in then he jumps to his feet.

"I thought we might be able to discuss this privately."

Sasuke is making his way across the room towards her. Itachi turns past the corner of the screen and forces himself to remain calm. With one glance at Sasuke, he takes the microphone from the inebriated woman. From the smell now unmasked by the perfume and sweat in the room, he can smell gin. Brilliant. This was going to look good in tomorrow's morning news.

"Brother, I believe that you should take this as a challenge from me. If you can't win her over in the next week, she's mine."

Itachi tells the entire room. Everyone is stunned, he can tell. He had really not planned things to end like this, especially with Ino not even having a say in this. But judging from her grabbing his arm so tightly, she's not in much of a position to protest anyway.

Sasuke's mouth draws into a snarl. An outward challenge to his presumed authority. And the entire room is looking onwards at the three of them, in this parody of modern romance; while Ino buries her face into his chest. Smudged eyeliner, smeared lipstick and cheap drinks. It is only now that Itachi becomes aware that she is sobbing, mouthing old words her father left behind into his chest. Something she'd told him.

One thing we need to get Itachi, out of this life.

* * *

Ooh, more references. Clever. Again, brownies.

Three Top Tracks #2:

**Many Of Horror** – Biffy Clyro

**Woods **– Bon Iver

**When U Love Somebody **– Fruit Bats

Thanks to all those who reviewed, +fav/+alert-ed. ~ 3

Reviews are loved and appreciated. ~ :)


	3. everything we've ever done is forgiven

Summary: _Because all that glitters isn't fishscale, or gold; or whatever the goddamn phrase is._

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Note: Sleepy ~ :c

Warning(s): AU. Bad language. Angst. Slightly crack!pairings at points. Solvent abuse.

* * *

Salt Air

* * *

- _everything we've ever done is forgiven. everything. _–

* * *

It's a game of "guess how much I love you."

Ino spent most of her precious adulthood playing like a child, oh my dear – _in, gratis_ – protected by large hands and a man that towered over her like a skyscraper with beautiful dark eyes who let her stick her tiny fingers through the bars of his ribcage until she could poke his heart.

But he is not the one who is caged. Bones and cages have never restricted him. It's funny, the way how she made it seem that she was the one who was trapped; not the older, wiser man with too little time on his hands to be looking after a silly kid like her. Yet, they are only a few years apart. And she loves him so much it hurts her too when he crumbles under her touch and wants.

But you see; she doesn't love him like everyone thinks she does. Itachi went and loved, and she went and loved but not enough. Not in the same way. Not like him. When he kisses her, it falls on her like dry ash. But then there is his brother.

There is Sasuke. Sasuke has the same hands, long and slender and everything about him is so beautiful it aches to look for too long. And while she bleeds into her pillow, skin the same colour as she slips and trembles and god forbid – _loves him _- he is still there, shining like a thousand diamonds.

She may be a model, but she has never thought of herself as beautiful. But please, if she couldn't be what she wanted; she at least wished for him.

And she gets what she asked for. She peels away the sheet of glass and leaves behind the only person who ever really loved her and packs everything in endless suitcases just to up and move out with someone who is so ugly it hurts. He injects over the kitchen table the first morning after she arrives; and she cries. To him it means nothing.

Screw it, it is a game of "guess how much I love you." And she can't win.

* * *

When Itachi was young, he beat his friend to the brink of death.

It wasn't that he wanted to hurt him. Shisui was related to him somehow, another Uchiha. One day Itachi woke up and Shisui was off somewhere sleeping with some girl who Itachi had some vague interest in; so upon finding out he went to his home and beat him until he passed out. The girl had screamed and run, but took the bribery money to keep her mouth shut. And Shisui? Shisui was left blind. He never should have even looked at her, was what Itachi had thought at the time. Now he feels he is getting his retribution.

"Why did you do that?"

He bows his head. Ino is somebody who cannot fathom what it is like to love somebody when you have been alone your entire life. Or maybe she can, and he does not want to admit it. There were only three people interested in her in this world; her manager, Sasuke, and himself. Only the last one wasn't entirely from self-interest.

"I wasn't being serious."

Itachi pulls his cigarettes out of his pocket, and tips one from the box carelessly. This should be a sign of silence. But Ino has never known when to stop, and limits are nothing to her but empty words and numbers.

"Shikamaru's pissed."

Ah, the manager. Itachi waves one hand at her in casual dismissal of his name. Nara is clever; he'll fix whatever she started last night. The funny thing was Itachi isn't entirely sure if he wants him to. It's easier to have Sasuke know flat out who he's standing for this time around. Itachi has never been a selfish person, but Sasuke has made his choice. Drugs over Ino, he couldn't have both forever.

"Are you staying at his?"

Itachi asks. It's a dangerous question, he knows. But she doesn't like photographs. She may have refused before now, but the only time she lets anyone capture her existence is when it's for a photo shoot. It's not so much that she has a problem with looking at herself; but rather that she feels a camera captures your soul behind a screen. She doesn't like people seeing who she really is.

"No, he's got Uzumaki camping out in his front room."

She doesn't have a home to go back to either. Her flat is Sasuke's flat; and that's where she doesn't want to be right now. Itachi went there once after she left him, and flowers permeated the air until he felt like choking. The Yamanaka family always did know how to cover ugly things up; and Ino was the best of them by far. Every fault and flaw, everything that ever went wrong was smothered until it no longer even appeared to exist. But now, everything is coming out.

"Stay here."

It's not a question he's asking, but rather this time he is giving a command. She's never really listened to authority unless she gains something from it; but this time he can see she's too tired to argue. Sasuke will not come to this building, and Itachi is quick enough not to let anyone know where his home is unless he means for them to be there.

"I'll pay you back one day."

Her back arches outwards as she collapses into the kitchen table, and Itachi cannot help but remember how very beautiful she was in the night with only a flicker of pale blue covering her skin through the holes in the blinds as she laid asleep, back arched out in the exact same way with hair sweeping everywhere and a small smile on her lips shining like a thousand stars. He had know that night that he loved her, and he knows the same now; but this time he isn't so foolish as to thrust it upon her.

"Everything's going to be ok."

He tries to tell her as she cries into her arms on his kitchen counter, legs dangling awkwardly from the stall and exposed and ghostly pale. Everything about her seems almost nonexistent at times, and if he ever had to figure out why he ever loved a girl like this; that would be the reason. He knew what it was like to be invisible.

"You're a liar."

She berates. Her reaches around her shoulders silently and draws her in, waiting for heer sobs to end. He knows, and had always thought himself one of the best before her. But she exposes everything but herself. With Ino, you can only ever get half-truths and what you want to hear. She doesn't have the heart to be wicked.

Ino is still young, and has never known what it is like to lose everything until now.

* * *

When Sasuke was young, he was told by his mother not to waste his time.

Even Dorian Grey died in the end. He had wasted his life being beautiful, and stupid, and young; and he wasn't even real. But still Sasuke took this lesson to heart. Beauty is nothing. It's nice to look at somebody who is like a work of art such as Ino Yamanaka, with her perfect poise and elegance and endlessness; but it gets awfully boring after a while. Just like his own face. Looking in the mirror has been tiring lately.

"Saku, pass me the hairbrush."

Normally, the nickname makes Sakura melt. She is the opposite of Ino. Ino is thin with startlingly pale hair and eyes that pull you in. In relative comparison, his childhood friend has bubblegum pink hair that takes away any attraction he might have ever held for her. But she's smart. She is an observer more than anything else, and she takes note of every little thing. Perhaps this is why she knows before he does.

"You miss Ino."

She tells him, pulling back his hair into a mock ponytail as he sits in his gilt golden chair and stares at himself. Her fingers brush across his back softly, but her nails catch and he lets out a hiss. This is not an involuntary reaction to her. Ino has left him, and he will get her back; but to humiliate her rather than because he misses her. Sakura pushes the brush down softly, ignoring his momentary anger.

"I miss the bitch like I'd miss an STD."

Sakura smacks him sharply on the back. For some reason, they always had an odd affection for one another; despite their claims pertaining to a far different situation. Ino doesn't like her because she's smart, and her hair colour is obnoxious. Sakura doesn't like her counterpart because she's better at their job anyway, and she's Shikamaru's favourite. Personally he thinks it's that they're both jealous of each other.

"She's not a bad person, Sasucakes. On the contrary, I've heard you're the abusive one. No wonder she's shacking up with Itachi."

Sasuke jolts under the brush as she pulls it down through his hair again and it goes too far, scraping down his back. It'll leave a mark, but he doesn't really care right now. He can throw anything out of his sight and out of his heart, but he cannot stand to lose. Not to Itachi. He knows that yesterday night had just been to save Ino the shame. But now it's slightly more personal.

"I never loved her, and I never told her I did either. I'm not a bad person."

Sakura tuts lightly at him, almost mockingly. At least he knows where she stands. He stiffens beneath her touch. But still, he cannot help but feel slightly ashamed of himself now that she's the one berating him. Sakura is nothing if not honest.

"You didn't have to."

Sasuke has never been a Dorian Grey character. He has always been beautiful, but he has never been stupid; and he will not remain young. But he knows that not everything will last. There is a certain sort of magic escaping Sasuke which he has never understood; he has never had to tell anyone that he loves them in order for them to assume it. Maybe that's why Ino stuck around so long. Or maybe it was that she genuinely cared.

"She chose to be in this relationship."

But now he feels like he's making excuses. The words are turning to ash on his tongue. It's like he's being written off, except Sakura has always been far too kind for something like that; too forgiving for her own good.

"So you won't miss her at all?"

He closes his eyes so that he doesn't need to see his reflection. He guesses he might mourn the loss of the little things. When he injected too much, she was there forcing him to stay alive. He threw up bile and blood, and she smoothed back his damp hair from his forehead and told him things would be alright. Once, he had hit her – _only once only once never again_ – and bruised her chest. She'd cried and cried, but only because she was worried he'd hurt his hand; not for herself. If he cares for her, he could feel remorse; or something, anything, that means that he misses her. But instead, his body aches like he is tired and he doesn't want to move until it stops. There is no such thing as being completely alone.

"Should I?"

He asks, sounding fairly bored of the tone of this conversation. Sakura slams the hairbrush into the nape of his neck and it stings. She is leaving him too, and he won't do anything to stop her either. It's not respect, or friendship, or anything like letting her get away with such a thing; but rather that he doesn't want the mess that comes with arguing with her.

When she slams the door he opens the drawer. Ino is still keeping his dirty little secrets. How long for, he doesn't know, so he might as well numb the shame while he could. He selects the thinnest needle to make it rush quicker through his veins. If he could describe the feeling, he'd call it liquid gold. It's like having everything worthwhile love your ugly body for once in a lifetime and rub away the decrepit outer shell of the surface. He can do anything with this, absolutely anything.

And in comparison, what can he do with Ino but sit and wait for the comedown?

* * *

Ino never uses watches.

It's like dying her hair red and re-entering the Garden of Eden – _or_ _Gethsemane _– hell bent on forgiveness that she knows she can't have. There is no redemption. There is no such thing as real forgiveness while there are memories. And so, time gives her constraints which she cannot lift; and she tries to remember not to love Sasuke.

"Do you love me?"

Itachi asks, almost silently, leaning over the table and speaking into the shell of her ear with tingling warmth. It lingers. If she squints, she can almost pretend he's his brother – _and that she is strong so very very strong and cannot love him_ – and everything will be alright. But this is the real world.

"I want to."

She tells him. It's the truth. If she could have chosen who to fall in love with, it would have been him. The older brother without petty addictions and a score to settle, who would give her anything that she wished for like Sir Condy and his Isabella in Castle Rackrent, the one who would really love her back instead of being more enamored with himself. But life has never been so kind.

"But I'm not Sasuke."

His lips press against the back of her shirt as he forms these words. She aches. It's the words she was never able to say. But still, his hands find their way under her shirt and the connection could almost feel right. So she closes her eyes and pretends as her front presses across his kitchen table, and eventually they're on the floor and it's like old times; except now it's his last hero shot at winning her back.

His watch lies on the floor next to her face, and when she finally opens her eyes in a hazed blur there it is in front of her. Eleven minutes past eleven. And she wishes that there were more time in the world than wristwatches constrict, and that she could escape. She wishes that he was his brother. Guilt floods through her, and some sick kind of remorse. She is using him for comfort, and he is letting her. She reaches for it and throws it across the room.

Itachi says nothing. Life is better when you believe.

* * *

Sasuke knows that he will not be forgiven.

Her shadow and his brother's darkness have blended together in front of him. He wishes that it was a dance, or imagination, or something false; but he knows to trust his own eyes when he's not too paranoid for them to play tricks on him.

But outside the building he is holding his mobile anyway, staring at the windows from the bottom of the concrete and glass high rise block and really wanting to know it's not his fault. But it is. He'd inject to get rid of the image if he could. But it's not the same without her. She knew when to stop him. He couldn't stop himself. Not even now.

"Hey –"

She has picked up. He must be imagining it, for this is what he wants; this is what he needs to believe. Magic is real. He isn't an addict. He loves her. And in this rare moment of clarity it hits him.

"- this is Ino's answer phone. I'm probably not picking up for a reason, so don't call me back, just leave a message?"

He exhales. He crouches next to his car, head between his knees. It's like wanting to disappear, but she's the one who is the magician. She is the one who's wiped herself from existence without his permission.

"Excuse me sir, are you ok?"

He looks up briefly and a pretty girl with long dark hair is staring down at him. She is offering him her hand, opened out in peace; with a small bird perched on lavender blossoms tattooed on her wrist. Irony, he thinks. Ino would love that tattoo, being a caged animal herself. His mind comes into focus. Itachi's assistant.

"Tell Itachi that I will get her back."

Still as he fled, his eye was backward cast, as if his fear still followed him behind.

* * *

I've had this lying around since before Christmas. I apologise.

_**Top #3:**_

I'm Going To Stop Pretending That I Didn't Break Your Heart – **Eels**

Adam's Song –** Blink 182**

Bubbles –** Biffy Clyro**

Critical reviews stongly appreciated.


	4. when in doubt knock 'em out

Summary: _Because all that glitters isn't fishscale, or gold; or whatever the goddamn phrase is._

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Note: Min, you know as well as I do why you're reading this & I can't say I'm sorry for it.

Warning(s): AU. Bad language. Angst. Slightly crack!pairings at points. Solvent abuse.

* * *

**Salt Air**

* * *

- _when in doubt knock 'em out _–

* * *

Itachi loves, and so he is alone.

He isn't sure how things were before Ino, or how it became like this. He just knows that she had been a poor art student with rockstar eyes that shone like a thousand diamonds; and he'd never needed anything as much as he did then. And she was magic; and he believed in her more than anything in the world. He always would.

She had loved him for it. This is why even now, he cannot bring himself to forgive his brother for what he has done. He'd never admit it. That's just how it is. His brother is an addict and he thinks himself beautiful. This is why he has no sympathy for the devil.

This is why when she cries in the morning like she did when she left him, it hurts more than anything Sasuke will ever do. She isn't pushing him away; he's the one that she's kept closest. But she cannot need him in the same way he needs her, just as Sasuke can never want her as much as he wants a quick fix.

But she has taught him what love is. It means not riding in the ambulance alone.

* * *

Sasuke isn't sure what love is.

Yes, he loves Ino; but not in the same way that she loves him. He likes the way she only ever eats half of the tomatoes, and draws smiley faces instead of putting any dots in her handwriting. But this is just him being selfish. Loving her is not the same. Perhaps this is why he loses track of time. And his mind. Out into the water, see it swimming.

"I remember riding in the ambulance, and all I wanted was for her to wake up."

Because Ino knows what sleeping this long is like. But he wasn't doing it intentionally. It's her. She's ruining him. It's not a side effect of the heroin; he is thinking it must be love. Or something akin to it, at least.

"When she did, brother, I was there; and you'd forgotten the fear of losing her."

Even in this hazy state he knows Itachi is right. She has only ever been human, and he has always expected more from her. But her beauty is nothing in this world, and she cannot be immortal whilst saddled with a mortal man who will die in a gutter coughing up his own blood.

"So steal her back."

His sibling has a dry smile he stores for special occasions, and it is this that he presents Sasuke with now as his brother lies on the ambulance bed stinking of his own plasma and vomit. Death has never scared him. Being alone – that has.

"Unlike you, I don't enjoy making her a martyr."

He's right. He's always right. To some perverse extent, Sasuke does enjoy her suffering; in the same way as she enjoys costume jewellery and masquerade parties and the notion of being in love. Oh, and fucking his brother. Normalcy has lost its place beneath his brittle bones; and not even this tired man pitying him in this horrible moment can bring back any affection for his family. Or much remorse.

"She will never be a saint."

No, Ino likes not eating and injecting. To save him, of course. But a sick part of him wonders if she secretly enjoys it. Ino is the kind of girl that anyone can look at and fall in love with. The girl with glitter hearts on her cheeks and handmade fairy wings. But he likes to ruin this innocent perfection. It'd happen eventually anyway.

"No, but she'll always be too good for you."

Even like this he can manage a bitter smirk. The funny thing about Itachi is that he's just like her. It's probably why she has never really been in love with him: just like her, he's never put himself first in this relationship. Until now, at least. They mimic each other like tired puppets.

"In the same way, she'll never love you."

Itachi understands. Sasuke hates him all the more for it. But really, not that he'll ever admit, he doesn't hate Itachi. He just wants to see him suffer as much as everyone else in their family did before he dies. And so he raises his hands to his brother's cheeks, hoping that this won't be the last time.

"I know. But love means never letting go."

This is love as Sasuke knows it, and the fact that his brother understands only makes it worse.

* * *

To Ino, love is like ink in the rain. It all washes away eventually.

"Hinata, am I bad person?"

The girl lifts her head and stares at the model. Ino is the most beautiful person she's ever had the misfortune to meet, because it makes her feel inadequate. It's not that Hinata dislikes herself. Or that she dislikes Ino. It's a matter of self-preservation, something Hinata knows very little about.

"Mr. Uchiha doesn't think so."

Ino smirks as if to ask which one, but doesn't comment on her slip. Everything is a game of politics with her. She's the darling of the home team. Hinata on the other hand is just an assistant. But at least she has friends. She doesn't think she's ever seen Ino with someone she can actually count as a true friend. That's why she always looks like she wants to cry.

"I wasn't asking about Itachi."

This is why: if she's truly honest, Hinata finds it difficult to like her. It's not just that she makes her feel inadequate in comparison. It's that every battle Ino has ever fought she has come out victorious. That's why she was on top. Ino was a bitch when she needed to be; and it forced everyone to keep their distance. She must remain Queen, at all costs.

"It depends on perspective."

Hinata mumbles gently. It's not that Ino's a bad person. It's just that this is the way things get done in the world. If you're not the best, you can't expect to be loved by the best. You can't get what you want in life without a pretty face.

"Then why am I not at the hospital?"

Ino whispers. She's staring vacantly out of the window watching the sun glimmer as it does every day of the year over her kingdom. She must be tired. You could hear it Ino, in her voice and held-back words. She didn't understand existence anymore. Or anything like need equating to love. To her, it was a matter of breathing; and nothing else.

"Because love is difficult."

And Hinata should know; she's loved Itachi since the day she met him. He'd been sitting there with his long lily-white hands spread over his desk and the deepest charcoal eyes she'd ever seen with such sadness she couldn't help but want to protect him. He was the King of an empty kingdom, a wasteland without what he wanted; and even then she knew he'd never love her as she loved him. But she needed him anyway.

"It's ok to hate me."

Because Ino understands that love doesn't last forever; but sometimes it's hard to remember these things. It's like watching the rain fall to the ground. It'll be gone by the morning; and she'll be standing right back where she started. Hinata smiles genuinely.

"I don't hate you."

Ino turns and gives her a genuine smile. It sends shivers down her spine. It's like everyone would suddenly turn and think a second sun was shining and scream at her to turn the lights out. Watching Ino smile was like watching creation. And Hinata wanted to bask in it.

"If he'd met you first, he'd have loved you instead."

Hinata's hand in hers tells her it's ok. This time the sun will come out instead.

* * *

Itachi knows that he can't love her anymore.

It's in the way Ino walks into the room without any emotion and sits next to him. She can't tolerate pain, but she lets anything run through her veins to please Sasuke. She hates boys who wear watches, but she doesn't have the heart to tell him because Sasuke always has one on. She can't love something beautiful, but every time it's like watching her fall for Sasuke all over again. He cannot win.

"I love you."

He mumbles, and drops his tired head onto her shoulder as she sits staring at the sleeping man he wants to hate. She doesn't play with his ponytail and let it run through her fingers and - _like silk she'd always laugh before she got away _– he understands. It's setting on him like weeks old plaster.

"I know, Itachi. That's why I can't do this to you."

He wants to tell her that it's not her doing it, but she knows. She's watching Sasuke with wise eyes on a young woman, too wise for her time because she's seen too much and it's entirely his brother's fault.

"Because we both know it's not me."

She's smiling. Her lips are pressed into his hair and she's taking in everything about him. He wants to remember things like this: her sitting at his desk in his old shirts, the way she always burnt breakfast the first week they lived together, her basking in the sunlight as it poured into their study while they researched the arts together. And so this is how she will stay, tucked away inside his memories like an old photo.

"I'm not sorry."

She mumbles into his hair. He smiles in return. He'd forgotten what being peaceful felt like, when she was safer and kept inside his head.

"Neither am I."

He answers truthfully. When she pulls away, he doesn't feel he misses her. She's gone back to watching Sasuke, and curls her knees under her chin like she's always done in a protective shell. She'll never change, and so he must be the one to do so.

"By the way, your assistant is really cute. You should ask her out."

Itachi laughs. She's only met the girl once, but she's a good judge of character; even if she doesn't necessarily follow the right actions following that judgment. Ino understands the inner workings of people like the back of her hand. Something in her is always ticking, and it's because of this that he can trust her to be his brother's keeper.

"That'd be sexual harassment."

Even as he turns his head to check the time though, he can see her waiting outside the door. It's probably loyalty and work; and she is nothing like Ino. She will never be his first love. That's why said woman suggested it, most likely.

"If you don't, I will."

She's joking, of course, but even so he knows she's straining herself. It's hard for her to laugh nowadays. So he pats her on the head and leaves, glancing through the window to see her waiting still on his way out. That's the real irony with her. She's always said she isn't the type to really fall in love even if she wanted to, and it was a pain even loving him when she had; and she'd always say she'd never be the type to wait. He can't love her this time because she's lied. She'll always wait for Sasuke.

The watchman leaves his station.

* * *

I have exams but this has been sitting around with the last two paragraphs to go. I'm getting worse at updating in the past year, by a lot. Plus, my nail just broke. Karma. =.=

Top #3, again:

Odessa – **Caribou**

Beeper – **The Count & Sinden**

Caesar (Miike Snow Remix) – **I Blame Coco feat. Robyn**

Reviews + constructive criticism appreciated.


	5. this brutal house

Summary: _Because all that glitters isn't fishscale, or gold; or whatever the goddamn phrase is._

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Note: Last chapter, probably. Experiment up.

Warning(s): AU. Bad language. Angst. Slightly crack!pairings at points. Solvent abuse. Death.

* * *

**Salt Air**

* * *

- _this brutal house_ –

* * *

"I'm being swallowed."

Sasuke rolls his arms against the carpet, bend and stretch and breathe. Inside it's hollow and cold and Ino is his blood. She's still good to him – _still Johnny B. Goode_ – and it's been a couple of weeks and everything is running. The drugs shoot through his veins again and it's ugly but it's ok because he can't cope otherwise; and the kid inside of him is begging him not to leave the baby dry. People get tired of seeing the lights.

"Oh, Sasuke. Oh dear."

Ino whispers, clutching his head to her lap in some semblance of what he supposes is beauty. She's always been some kind of pretty that'd make people cry, but never pretty enough for him until he was on the brink of death. He's getting damn close again too, or at least he thinks he is. He strokes her arm in the haze. He didn't want to be back here but it was where he belonged. You can take the drugs away from the boy, but you can't take the boy away from the drugs. He laughs coldly to himself then wonders why it's so funny anyway when he really wants to scream.

"They tried to make me go to rehab, and I wouldn't go-go-go."

He hums a thin bar of a song he once jokingly said he loved because it was his mantra, eyes glassy and cold. She'd come home with him from the hospital, compliant as long as he kicked this shit back to where it belonged; but he can't even do that for her. All Sasuke ever amounts to is talk. Big air. The sooner she escapes the better, this time around, she needs to get away from him before they're back to where they started and the love is gone.

"Sometimes I wonder if it'd be kinder to kill you."

She admits, finally. It's dreadful. But true. He really might be better and it's only now that she's said it that he doesn't need to feel guilty about it anymore. It's not violent like a heart attack or sad like cancer, or honest like any illness; this is his addiction. He couldn't ever choose her, even though he wants to. Needs her more than anything.

"I'm just waiting to die."

Even though he's scared of that darkness more than anything and he doesn't want to leave her now, it's true and his throat is raw and stinging. But he's a Uchiha, and Uchiha men don't cry. She presses her forehead to his though, eyes wet and sad and so like his mother he wants to be sick. Too many good people have loved him in his life; and he'll never be able to pay back an ounce of everything he's ever not deserved this time around.

"This was supposed to be our happy ending."

She's trembling and oh so her. She always acts so tough, like nobody can touch her really. Nobody gets under her skin. But he has. Her fingers curl over the last needle, and she puts it in her beaded clutch bag. He doesn't complain. He can't. What's the use of whining when he brings this on himself every time? Sometimes he thinks its pleasure. Secretly, although he'll never tell her, part of him thinks that this time it was punishment as well. He can't love her until he's done with this because she doesn't deserve to suffer anymore.

"I'm right though, we're swallowed. Drowned by the bloody tide."

* * *

"You're not eating again."

Ino pushes the food around the plate in front of her. Itachi's never been a brilliant cook, even in her artistic days she'd avoid eating whatever thing he attempted to make. She's always spared his feelings when she can. But sometimes eating is something you just forget to do. Never intentionally. Well, sometimes intentionally. But when you love someone and they're always going to be slowly dying, eating is as futile as anything else.

"Big contract coming up."

It's a lie, and Itachi knows it. Modelling to her is only modelling. Just money. It's all well to be that odd kind of pretty that sells, but her heart isn't in it. He's seen her paint stained fingers and genuine glee when she was young to prove it. The critics told her not to give up her day job, but she didn't care. Art made her free, until she needed to pay for electricity and water and gas. Life has a funny way of not making your dreams come true.

"Check yourself in the mirror, you look ill."

She tuts at his admittance, but goes to the bathroom anyway. His hands graze the surface top for seconds before he decides. It's wrong but she's never been completely honest, so in a way it's protecting an investment. His brother needs her, and he needs to continue moving forward. Date Hinata, break a leg, have kids; something nice and stable. Something expected of him, because that's the way the world is. He likes to think he makes the rules; but expectations always got the best of him. And he searches her purse. Finds the needle. Knows it's easily illegal, stashes it away. She probably won't even notice it's gone if it's not hers. By the time she's back, everything's perfect again and he is pretending to be fine.

"You know, you don't look so great yourself kid."

She half jokes. The thing with her is that he never knows if she's serious. Grief doesn't suit Ino, it's made for the girls that are the boring kind of pretty with big green eyes and nails painted to match. It's for girls who run after dead men. Sometimes though, it's for this reason that he thinks she's going to become one. She's always loved things that are the ugly kind of beautiful. Maybe that's why she's never been able to say all that glitters is gold.

"Who are you really, and who were you before?"

He comments back. Casablanca, one of her favourites. Nobody ever really loved a kind man. Or a double entendre, or anything. What had she been before she'd met the Uchiha family? A pretty girl with dreams bigger than the universe. Then of all the stupid little places where she belonged, she'd come into his world. She'd wanted to make art and he'd wanted the world to know about her. He wanted everyone to see how breath taking she was; and maybe, somewhere along the way, that was how he ruined her.

"Here's looking at you."

* * *

"Can I tell you a story, Sasuke?"

His eyes stare vacantly and wide and his hands stretch so his fingertips touch hers. Being around him is like slipping through the embrace of a feather. It's soft and gentle, and by the morning it's always gone. The moment is lost and your tears leave you back where you started.

"How's the end?"

He whispers. Ino strokes his hair; the hair that gorgeous shade of charcoal she'd always loved on Itachi until she met Sasuke. Things got heavy after him. If she sorted her life, it was before and after Sasuke; because from the time she had met him she unconditionally loved him. Even though he was cruel and wicked and his words were like barbed wire, he was never like that to her until it was already too late and he was as habitual as breathing.

"I don't know."

He's disappointed as a child at this. He idly slides her blonde hair through his hands in return. He could almost make it an affectionate gesture, if he actually meant to stop this. But Ino is getting older and more realistic. He can't give it up. Not even for her touch. She doesn't know if he ever will. At least, if he does, it'll never be for his apparent love of her.

"It's about a little girl who met someone she admired very much, and once she supposed it was love. But she grew up."

Sasuke closes his eyes. He can't even bring himself to look at her at times like this, of that much she is certain. His body is aching just like hers because they've grown so cold; the damp misery is seeping into their bones like heavy rain water. She can't carry on though, she can't say – _she met someone she really did love and he was worth it no matter what _– anything. She isn't sure she can lie anymore. Not for either of them.

"Are you going to leave me again?"

He asks, his breathing slow and shallow. She presses her lips to his head, and leans in to the shell of his ear. The smell of soap and obstinate cleanliness he has isn't from the hospital, it's just his smell. He's always been so obstinate on the outside. He's always looked perfect. But only if the world could see him now. He's getting old with her; and the days he won't exist are beginning to outnumber the days without clarity. Before, it was close; but now she is certain that Sasuke is going to die. Be it in a few weeks or a year or three, she knows it is coming. She isn't sure what she's more mortified at, the feeling of relief or knowing she'll go down with him.

"No. Never."

His croaks, his voice breaks into a gasp of relief. It's terrifying, the way he's showing more emotion than he ever has in these past few months. She thinks it's because he knows what it's like to really lose the people you love through choice now. His family didn't have an option. But she did, and she'd thought she'd let herself live by doing so. She'd been right, of course. Though she knows now she can't ever go. Even if it's terrible, no matter what faces he shows; this is where she belongs. With him.

"Ino, I'm so damn sorry."

* * *

"I wish I didn't love them so much."

Itachi is cold and shut up in his house. The funny thing about the night is that when it comes, even your shadow leaves you. You can't depend on anyone that way. Not Hinata in her innocence; not Ino who was too beautiful and cared too much. Especially not Sasuke, the only one who he hadn't ruined from his family – the only one he'd left to hurt himself. Sasuke hadn't even needed the helping hand, really. So it came to this.

The needle. It was what kept them apart. He could take the last shot Ino had left, stop her from coming to get it back. She'd never know, put it down to clumsiness or loss. She'd never suspect he in his infinite kindness would steal from the only girl he'd ever really loved; the same girl who became a woman under his touch and his brothers and wasn't really his. Not ever. From the moment she had met Sasuke, she had ceased to truly exist.

So he takes off the cap, squeezes a little out of the tip just to check it's not just air or something that'll hurt too much. He's taking this for them, getting rid of the last one; removing the last hurdle. He parts his lips and rolls his tongue over them, moisture for the dryness. His quaking hands remind him this is happening, that without this he can cut off their supply from the source; taking this last one will save them. It's the hero shot they'll never know about.

He pushes the needle forwards and breaks the skin. Then ecstasy, but it feels wrong. It feels like he's drowning. Like a fish gasping for air. His fingers flex out and grab the nearest thing; tries to laugh when it's a photo of the unhappy couple but it won't come out. His hands go limp; he lays his head against the counter and thinks of the little boy who he gave piggy backs to school and the blonde artist who couldn't ever make it. She'd say all that glitters ain't fishscale, in her mock cockney accent and laugh and oh God - -

"Who's going to hold your hand when I'm gone?"

* * *

"Ino, it's Hinata."

Something in her throat catches and the pain washes over her bones, her legs buckle to the static of the buzzing phone; cuts out the uniqueness of any love she ever felt for Sasuke. He was supposed to be the first to know, and he hadn't even picked up the phone. Itachi had asked her once if she was afraid to die and she'd said – _we're all dying anyway_ – that she'd never really thought about it.

"He can't die."

She really wishes she hadn't lied, that it'd been him she loved; that she wasn't going to have to be the one to tell Sasuke how they'd found his last familial link face down on the counter with their picture and the coroner had said even now it was obviously the drugs. The purity had been too high, she guesses. She lowers her head into her palms and Hinata's voice does nothing to help her, it just reminds her that it's entirely her fault.

"He's been dying for years."

* * *

"Sasuke."

Ino's voice washes over his bones like a cooling balm. But even now, Sasuke knows it should have been him instead of the brother he'd said he hated. His words are all meaningless now, though. Everything's meaningless. He can see even now that although Ino loved him and she'd always love him more, it had been his brother who made her. He had toiled and bled for her, spilt his hearts and his guts and given her everything. He'd done the same for Sasuke; and for what, to be killed by something they'd left around.

"You said you weren't going to leave me."

It was only a few hours ago and already he can feel her slipping away. It's not that she doesn't want him anymore now, though; it's that together they've erased someone completely. It's that he can't quit even now. So he slips weak fingers over the lid of the bin next to him, shoves everything from the table top into it. This is his absolution.

"We killed him."

Ino says, long hair pooling in her lap as she folds her body in two. Not even Shikamaru can fix this; they'd left him the instruments and he'd done it but it's still the same. It's the remainders of what they've done. It's everything they've ever given themselves to etched over someone good who that shot wasn't meant for. His mouth is parched but for once he is brutally honest.

"I always wondered just how long it would take us."

* * *

For the first time, Ino is alone.

Just another pretty face in a sea of people that could have been more famous than her if they really tried. Humanity called her even more beautiful lately, said that she'd learnt to wear grief well; but she's never been uglier. She lifts the black veil she wore to the funeral, rubs the red lipstick and mascara and blusher across her face something awful. Wonders if people would see her like this and still think of her the same like he would.

She hates to be where he is not, and yet this time she can't go with him.

* * *

Final chapter. Because life doesn't exist without you in it. Epilogue to follow.


	6. the girl who fell through the ice

Summary: _Because all that glitters isn't fishscale, or gold; or whatever the goddamn phrase is._

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Note: Last chapter, probably. Experiment up.

Warning(s): AU. Bad language. Angst. Slightly crack!pairings at points. Solvent abuse.

* * *

**Salt Air**

* * *

- _the girl who fell through the ice_ –

* * *

Ino doesn't look in mirrors anymore.

She leaves her apartment, leaves Sasuke behind; buys herself a house with the modelling – _filthy_ _blood _– money. The first night when the movers come and put the looking glasses everywhere she calls Shikamaru, and he's there in an hour to help her take them all down in complete silence. The ones they can't find sheets to cover, they turn towards the walls. The one in her bedroom was already smashed, but she'd had it brought along anyway; and it sits in her room broken. It had been that way since the week after he died.

"It wasn't you, you know."

Shikamaru never cuts corners, never lies to her; but this time he doesn't understand. How could he? These days he stays with her indoors as she goes back to how she was before. She draws, big sweeping images over the walls; a mural in the bathroom, a set of glass sculptures in the basement once she finds that simply visualising on paper is limiting. He cuts down the modelling work, starts selling her art like she's always wanted. It doesn't pay anywhere near the same, but hell, it's better than nothing. Better than anyone seeing her face. She can't be beautiful in grief like everyone thinks she can; she can't wear tears as jewels like Hinata's been doing for months.

"He was the one to overdose, but I was the one to give him the means to."

She cries anyway. She tries not to in front of Shikamaru, but he doesn't mind when she does. He just pulls her into his chest or shoulders or hands whenever he can in an awkward way; the way they used to before he became her manager and they were just friends and she is certain that without him, she wouldn't even bother trying anymore.

"You didn't even know."

Today she is sitting on the floor in front of the broken mirror, doodling into yet another little leather and string bound journal with Shikamaru half asleep on the bed behind her. She sees her reflection scattered across the glass, and stares for a moment at her own eyes. He's right, she didn't know; but it's still her fault. And it's made her eyes cruel, cruel and tired; it's too late to say sorry when they person you want to say it to is gone. She can't even manage accept her apologies to herself, dammit.

"It should have been me."

She leans forward and lets the jagged edges catch her skin.

* * *

I know this is a seriously a) depressing, and b) late, ending. I have been doing a foundation year at the University of the Arts in London, my hometown – and god, this place is killing me. I joined a month late, and the workload is enormous; but in a funny way I enjoy having so much to do.

Anyway! Thank you all for reading & sorry if the ending disappointed you; I know people would hope she ended up with one or the other, but this was sort of how I had it planned out all along. A life lived like that can't end any other way but in tragedy – you have you take charge to change it if you want a better ending, and that's not something I could ever see a character like Sasuke doing. But constructive criticism over this is very welcome, I would be interested to know what other people think about this.

Reviews also appreciated; and thanks for reading.


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